Too Late For Gods
by A.V Storm
Summary: Three years after Father is destroyed, Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye continue to wear their scars as Roy climbs higher and higher into the military ranks. But when their lives are reconsidered after the genocide of Ishval, their comfort is only able to subside with each other, particularly when Roy expresses his envy towards Edward Elric. (One-shot. ROYAI. Happy 2015 Royai Day!)


_**Author's Note**_ : I've always been a big fan of Royai. They were the first pairing that I shipped when I was in eighth grade. I'm twenty-three now and I still love them, especially after rewatching Brotherhood a few months ago. I remember that my friend and I used to freak out every month on the tenth when the manga series was still around, and they continue today to be two of my favorite characters of all time.

I've only participated in Royai Day once before, but I've never actually written anything about them myself (although I have heavily read a lot of Royai fanfiction). So here goes a one-shot/drabble that hopefully isn't super out of character. I would like to write a drabble series on them some day. As usual, I'll base yet another fanfiction off of my favorite band of all time. "Too Late For Gods" by AFI has always reminded me of Roy and Riza. If you have time, check the song out!

If Roy or Riza are out of character, I apologize. But this is the way that I had always imagined a "forbidden" romance between the pair would be like. Always different perceptions, right? ;) Tthis will be set three years after the end of the manga and Brotherhood.

And Happy Royai Day, everybody! This is basically porn fluff, I guess. Lulz?

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 **Too Late For Gods**

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Rain padded against the glass windows of her apartment building, drenching the outside parkway of Central. It resonated throughout the kitchen floorboards; sounding more like small talons of a crow tracking across the glass than it did the heaviness of rainfall. Black Hayate wasn't pleased with the noise, as he growled lowly on the floor with inevitable irritation. His small paws made great scratching marks appear against the throw rug underneath the table, despite that his owner was far too busy throwing together a last minute meal.

Throughout the kitchen on the third floor of the building, there was a fragrance of gunpowder residing there that fought with what Major Riza Hawkeye attempted to cook at such a late hour. Amber eyes glowering, she briefly looked behind her to glance at the time on the wall. It was a quarter to ten, causing her stomach to clench again with hunger after a hectic day at Central Command. The beef stir fry in the pan above her stove was nearly complete, causing her mouth to water as the smell wafted throughout her apartment. Sighing, she turned the noodles over again with a spatula.

However, when her Shiba Inu barked at a loud clash of thunder, Riza's eyebrows raised to look at the handsome pup. His pointed ears were raised higher than ever with fear, peering back at her with insistence and need.

"Four years now, and you still aren't happy with the rain?" She asked him, smiling some with appropriate fondness. However, at the sight of his marks on the rug, she gave a sigh of her own that came intact with a scold. "Stop that, Hayate. I don't need the landlord breathing down my neck again."

Fortunately, Hayate had never misbehaved since his days as a puppy. Therefore, he indignantly stood from his resting spot underneath the table, shook his fur, and retracted back to her bedroom. Riza had just begun to check the food in her pan again before there was a familiar knock at her door. There was no blink of surprise – Riza suspected that perhaps he might make a visit that evening. Despite her attempts to ignore the high level of panic and franticness at Central Command since the day's events had unfolded, she knew that it would not last long.

Exhaling as she brushed her hands against her apron, Hawkeye quickly tied her hair back while she tread towards the front door of her apartment. When she unlocked each of the bronze deadbolts, there was no surprise in her gaze. Major General Roy Mustang was not a frequent visitor to her humble abode in Central, but he was not an unfamiliar one. Two seconds of analyzing his slouch and the emotional decay in his black eyes, Riza felt a chill resonate through the depths of her spine. She knew why he was there, and knew that if it hadn't been for the latest proclamation of the Amestrian jury, they might have spoken much sooner after a tenacious day in Central.

"They've made the decree, lieutenant." Roy Mustang spoke dully. There was a numb note in his voice, despite that the typical flurry for determination remained. The current Major General had clearly been inflicted by the light shed of rain over the valley. His disheveled ebony hair and long coat were both covered in wet splatters of the weather, caused by the wind to howl behind him. In his right hand, Roy held the most recent black and white newspaper – which had recently declared that the Amestrian government had decided to inflict further investigation on the genocide in Ishval.

There was a stout likelihood that the soldiers involved would be punished for their crimes against the innocent. A mindful thought that had plagued the former First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye throughout the day. Subsequently, now that she was home tucked in her own safety, she had vowed to forget what had been decreed. For her own clutch of sanity, Riza decided to avoid the pending issue for now, and wondered why Roy had brought the paper with him. Although, she could only assume it was because he was far more fearful than she was. After all, she had never known anyone more ambitious or loving of the future of Amestris.

"So I've seen." Riza answered lowly. Her heels clicked together, despite that she wasn't wearing any shoes. Just as her hand raised up to salute him, she caught herself midway in that action, and reached for the knob of her door to extend him an invitation. At some times, it was difficult to forget their formalities.

"Come inside, sir. I was just making supper, there is just enough for the two of us – and I would hate to make you more useless than you already are, despite that the thought is tempting."

The reply was immaculately caustic. Roy Mustang's thin mouth had barely moved a muscle when his hand holding the clipping fell back down to his side with the finality of his mental defeat – seeming to bring him back down to the world from the emotional void he had visited. Despite doing so, the Major General nodded formidably at her suggestion. His boots trekked inside of the home, brushing them against the rug of the entryway. He knew well enough by now that Riza Hawkeye did not appreciate wearing shoes indoors, and so, he quickly slid them off in the same motion.

There was a pale look in his eyes when their gazes met. His face had drained several colors as he followed her into the kitchen. After so long, there was no mistaking that their footsteps fell in synchronization to each other – even now, when there were no more Homunculus nor a war to fight. Roy was more or less a ghost in her presence, and thankfully, it was not a forbidden disposition. After so many years, Riza Hawkeye knew how to medicate his soul when it began to waver on the brink of their own humanity; particularly when it was his own.

Checking the beef stir fry again when her bare feet came across the squared, ivory linoleum of her kitchen floor, Roy had begun to aimlessly wander throughout the room. She did not watch him, but she felt his eyes flicker upon her her back several times. One of his arms rested on the counter next to her cluster of mail from the last week and a half. Roy chuckled some (likely at the uncharacteristic disorganization), but there was no humor in the laugh when he spoke up behind her.

"I see you've received Fullmetal's invitation." His voice was cool, drifting without any feeling attached. She did not have to look over her shoulder to know what he was talking about. Only yesterday, she had been summoned from Edward Elric and Winry Rockbell to present herself at their wedding ceremony in Resembool. The photo and letter had arrived separately and Riza had made the mental inclination to save the image, or at least tack it somewhere in her home not to forget. The expressions that Edward and Winry wore would forever be an imprint on her mind of everlasting happiness – and not something that Riza Hawkeye would hope to miss. Not in a lifetime.

From the moment she had opened the mail, she had felt her heart soar for the pair. There was a resigned set of tenderness that she had always felt for Edward Elric and Winry Rockbell, a hopefulness that would never been vanquished, even in disparaging times like these. Therefore, Riza merely cleared her throat as she executed the flame underneath the stove.

"I did. You'll be traveling to Resembool to attend too, I hope?" Riza absentmindedly begin to reach across the steaming pan to find two sets of ceramic plates in her cupboard. Roy didn't say anything at all momentarily when he placed himself down at her mahogany table. It might have been the old-fashioned way that she had been brought up by her late parents, but Riza Hawkeye had never believed eating anywhere but a table when it came to meals. Fortunately, Roy Mustang had spent much of his time with Berthold Hawkeye and herself. He never made qualms to disagree.

"Wasn't planning on it, but maybe." Roy grunted, exhaling sharply when he sat down. Every bit of his muscles seemed to collapse.

As Riza piled the carrots, onions, noodles, and beef down onto two separate plates with a sidle, the blonde-haired woman eventually turned around. It was clear to her that the man was beside himself, and she couldn't blame him. He was only four ranks away from being made the Fuhrer of Amestris; a dream that had filled him whole since she had known him. And with the possibility of being punished for his involvement in the Ishvalan Massacre, Riza Hawkeye was no less riddled with guilt. But she did not wear it on her sleeve – despite that the outcome may become unpreventable. For now, with Roy's face pressed into the palms of his hands, she couldn't imagine how much faith in himself had crumbled on that day.

"It would be unkind of you not to attend." Riza answered reflectively, frowning at him when she placed down the dinner in front of him. Handing him a napkin when she settled down herself, she made the effort of scooting further into the table before continuing meaningfully.

"Despite Edward's reluctance towards you, it is an extension of his gratitude. You owe him your company, sir. And I am sure that Alphonse would like to see you as well; you might want to see him. As you already know, he has been studying in Xing."

As soon as Riza began to slowly retract her fork from her napkin, Roy did the same without saying anything for a few minutes. They ate in silence until Roy offered to pour them both some water. The stir fry was slightly spicy, but genuinely fulfilling – Riza silently admired the fact that he didn't make himself a guest in her household. Only a friend, a visitor, and someone that she had discreetly cared for indefinitely.

When Roy returned with two glasses and a pitcher of ice water, he was notably calculating what he had to say. He carefully filled her cup, before pursuing to his own.

"I'm happy for Fullmetal." Roy admitted quietly. His gaze narrowed as he placed the pitcher down, sighing when he returned to his former seat and picked up his silver utensil. "But with what is going on in Central, I may need to stay here."

Initially, Riza didn't have a retort. Instead, she swallowed the water slowly, carefully evaluating him from across the table. They were watching each other like two opposite philosophers, attempting to take a peek at what each of them were contemplating about the news of their possible demises. The only surprise was that they both knew, which caused both of their stares to return to their plates. As Riza wiped her mouth on her napkin, she peered at Roy again. To her pleasant surprise, he appeared far less bloodless after getting some substance inside of him. Perhaps it was the mention of Edward Elric's wedding that brought him some good hope after all.

"For what, I wonder? To defend yourself against the innocent lives we terminated in Ishval? What will you hope to say in our defense, in order to alter their perception of the wrong we did?" Her questions came at bullet speed, feeling her lips crush together when Roy considered her again. The man swallowed hard and took a drink, before he carefully responded again.

His words weren't anything she did not already expect. It was a promise he had made many years before, a hundred times. But at the direct momentum, she knew her eyebrows were impending together at her own reaction.

"Anything at all, if it means staring down in the Fuhrer's seat someday."

The reminder of Roy Mustang's greatest ambition was not one that surprised her. Instead, Riza calculated him while she ate. It was difficult for her not to peer at him admirably. Even after everything he had endured, Roy's dreams would never be crushed into the tiniest curvature. He was a never-ending enigma of his own, causing Riza reason to smile ever so slightly.

"And you know that I will be trailing three steps behind you when that day occurs." She encouraged thoughtfully, licking her lips a bit with conclusive mindfulness of her own. Roy glanced at her solemnly, shifting her an appreciative stare beyond his worries. Ergo, she remained just as stubborn as he was when she spoke again.

"But for now, it would not be of harm to escape your duties and attend the ceremony with me."

As usual, Roy ate his meals much quicker than his subordinate did. While Riza finished her food quietly, Roy had retracted from the table without saying anything at all. The sink of the apartment made a clunking noise as he turned the nozzle, cleaning off the debris of what he hadn't eaten. And finally, halfway through, Roy tilted his head back to speak.

"You're not worried about appearing suspicious?" He asked, wearing a smirk when he tilted towards her. Riza's eyes widened with surprise, but did not debunk his claims entirely. They had both had far too many experiences as Colonel Mustang and First Lieutenant Hawkeye not to become wary of their familiarities.

"What is suspicious about attending a wedding that we were both invited to?" Riza asked quietly. Roy chuckled ever so slightly, shaking his head when his shoulders rounded again at the base of the sink.

"Maybe I'm a little too weary since Bradley had your position altered to work closely under his supervision." Roy admitted honestly, his voice slightly muffled by the running water. "Or after Gold had your throat slit in attempt to make me perform human transmutation…"

"So now you're fretted that there might be a headline story about the future Fuhrer of Amestris having an affair with his subordinate?" It was another sardonic remark on her own behalf, in hopes that Roy would lose his regal title. Only recently had he been promoted to Major General. Since then, it didn't seem like his former cheekish-self had returned. Albeit, she understood his worries. It had been one of the very few times that each of them had mentioned what had occurred during Fuhrer Bradley's reign of terror over Amestris. And to say that it hadn't changed each of them would be a lie – but when it came to something as simple as a wedding, Riza hoped to dissuade him.

"I just don't want that to happen again." Roy said gruffly. He had finished cleaning his plate, before looking back at her again with determination. Riza inhaled as she finished the last bit of her own dinner. The entire conversation had ruined her appetite. When she finally stood from the table, she slipped off her apron while cleaning up the last bit of scraps that the two of them had left behind. As she placed the loose fabric against the back of the chair, she spoke up again once the table was deemed clean enough for the rest of the evening.

"You're being too cautious. Edward and Winry would like us both to be there. Their union is important."

"Speak for yourself…" Roy snorted indignantly, despite that her response had been perfectly lighthearted. Even so, Riza crossed the room. She divided the distance between them in an even stride, and ended it by placing her plate down on floor of the silver sink. When they were only nine inches apart, Riza looked up at him finally. Her right arm rested on the edge of the counter, before speaking to him informally. Despite that she could see every anxiety he was experiencing, despite that she could equalize his inferiority with the current situation of their flaws in Ishval, she felt brave when she expressed a flat stare at him.

"Colonel." It was not his military title now, but it seemed to bring Roy back down to the center of the universe in which he stood when it was spoken. A request laid on her lips, just as it had during those trialed times when Maes Hughes had been murdered, and everything thereafter.

"I'm asking you to trust me."

Roy turned away from her then. He buried his hands into the folds of his pockets, not daring to speak nor look at her again. There were times that Riza undoubtedly knew what his endless trails of cognizance entailed to, but at this time, she did not. The anxiousness inside of him resonated through deeply before he finally had the courage to ask her the truth of his own insecurities.

"And what do you make out of the possibility that we will pay for our crimes in Ishval?"

The lowness in his voice was hardly more than a whisper, but it was earnest and something that she had always admired about Roy Mustang. From his searching stare, Riza knew he was hunting for her opinion desperately. It meant very much to her that he respected it as deeply as he did. But as her eyes faltered from his, the heaviness of his guilt had fallen upon her. Honesty of her own was the only option left behind in its wake, leaking down the back of her spine and causing her to shudder.

Regardless, she wanted to remain hopeful for the future Fuhrer of Amestris; the man that she had believed in thoroughly from the time that she had been a young girl. The Flame Alchemist who had captured her father's works and sciences on his own.

"I haven't made anything out of it, yet. But I do know that the remaining individuals from Ishval may be forgiving. We cannot know until the government makes a decision… For now, don't let it impair your judgment, sir."

When Riza finally had the courage to look at him again, Roy turned away. She watched his profile, wondering if she should bring up Fuhrer Grumman. Not only was he her maternal grandfather, but he was the most just and earnest man that had likely harbored Amestris' government control in hundreds of years. Roy seemed to consider this himself, but there was doubt as his palms slid against the counter to support himself.

To her abrupt surprise, he confessed a tiny distress of his own.

"I'm jealous of Fullmetal."

 _Jealous. Covetous. Desirous. Resentful. Envy._

Each five words reminded her of the Homunculus fellow with an elongated, slender body that Roy had fought to destroy three years prior. The thought of him – or it, as it were – caused her to exhale with substantial worry of her own. Ergo, for the briefest moment of time, she did not know how to soothe him. So instead, she murmured sarcastically.

"I understand the envy of being famous for sacrificing physical limbs for a sibling, battling Father singlehandedly, and permanently losing Alchemy as a result... Must be a real party."

"That's not what I meant." Roy countered darkly. His hands on the counter began to clench; the muscle in his jaw squared. "Fullmetal was discharged from the military. Regardless, he was able to recover himself and his brother safely, and remains responsible for saving Amestris; now he's going to marry who he wants and live happily in Resembool with no repercussions. It is difficult not to envy him."

"You act like being rid of your alchemy and the military would make you happy, which isn't true." Riza reminded him pointedly. He shuddered slightly, before finally, it seemed that his conclusive theories had come to an end.

But she knew that when their eyes met, his envy was not drawn by glory. There was a glowing intensity in former Colonel Roy Mustang's stare.

It was Edward Elric's marriage that Roy had become yearningly entangled by, and that was made more apparent by his next dutiful admission by arriving unexpectedly that evening.

"I know. But if I were him, it would be enough."

Perhaps there was guilt there. But it was misplaced and contrived; selfish on Roy's behalf. Despite the budding devotion and love between them both, his resentment was not necessary for either parties. Subsequently, Riza fathomed his discontent. She reached up to touch his shoulder, before allowing it to retract back to her side. Uniform or not, there was a conclusive respect between them despite being infrequently broken. Fraternization was still illegal, and a law. Even in the depths of her own home, Riza Hawkeye had vowed not to break them – despite that sometimes, their high level of allegiance, fervor, and faithfulness towards each other was shaken.

Now was one of those times where they both needed reassurance of what was real between them.

"Do us both a favor and stop comparing yourself to Edward Elric." Riza advised softly. She smiled softly, hoping that her reassurance would be enough to soothe him for the moment. "And set aside your emotional plights to enjoy what you have in the moment, sir. For my sake, regardless of what other decrees might be made to cause our demise."

Despite the weight that they both felt, Roy turned towards her. And without any premeditated warning, the Major General grasped her. It may have been unwarranted, but the sound of his breathing calmed her immensely when her cheek came to rest on his side. One arm came around the small of her back, the other over her shoulder. Warmth radiated from him, emblazoning her insides. Her cold exterior began to shrink as her own hands clutched the back of his shirt as the wind in her stomach escaped.

"I will." Roy consented harmlessly. His arms released her, but only enough to tilt her hand up with the corner of his thumb against her chin. "But only if you will promise again that someday, I'll be able to publicly call you 'my queen' without scrutiny or denouncement on our halves."

"For as long as I live." Riza responded breathlessly. She smiled faintly yet encouragingly. "Even if it is too late for us."

"It's never too late for Gods." Roy winked humorously, seeming to gain his lighthearted demeanor for then. The finality was left pressed against her cheek when he placed his lips, so delicately that Riza leaned into him and closed her eyes.

"So why would it be too late for us?"


End file.
